


In The Shadows Of Whitechapel

by Archangel_Reid



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Chandler knows little but still tries, Kent has some form of magic, M/M, Miles knows all, The vigilante au literally no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangel_Reid/pseuds/Archangel_Reid
Summary: Kent's got a secret, something he never told anyone. It was just something he did behind the scenes, stringing up petty criminals in an effort to clean up the streets that often went forgotten. No one noticed him, not much anyway. He was just another copper who took his work home, that's all. Until he slips up and is seen. Shit's about to hit the fan and Kent finds himself worrying about what may come next.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally posted over at my wattpad account but since I'm shutting that down it's moving over here. I may continue this, I may not, I don't know ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

He ran, vaulting and flipping as he went. A smile graced his lips behind the mask, his brown eyes shining brightly. This was the way to hunt criminals, at least in his opinion. It felt good to be out of the office, out of the suit he wore almost everyday. A leather hooded jacket and black skinny jeans along with solid but comfortable boots replaced the sharp, slightly restricting clothing. No one knew he was up here, that he was working behind the scenes in the darker areas.

He paused, sitting on the corner of the top of a building. He had started as a teen, doing simple free running and stunts. Then came the power. That's where it all started. He learned to fight soon after. None of his team mates or friends knew about this. They didn't have to know. Only the moon, the stars and the city knew about him out here.

He slipped off the roof of the building, pushing off and grabbing onto the drain pipe across from him. He moved down slowly, keeping quiet on the rusty brackets that held the piping to the brick wall. He continued down until he hit a window sill that he could stand easily on. He stood there for a moment, looking over the city he loved before taking a few steps and throwing himself at the railing of the fire escape on the next building. Gently, he hauled himself over and trotted down the stairs.

He stretched out his limbs when he got to the bottom, rolling his neck. Dawn was only an hour or so away and he needed to sleep, even if it was only two hours he managed to catch. He turned and began to walk down the alley when a scream pierced the night.

'Great. Just flipping fantastic.' He thought, biting his lip behind the mask. He could just leave, carry on on his way home or...

He took off, sprinting to the opposite end of the alley and pushed off the wall, following the scream. He reached an intersection, head swiveling back and forth. Where was it coming from? The sound rebounded down the alley to his left. He sprinted, guessing he didn't have long.

A woman was huddled against a wall, screaming her head off. Her boyfriend lay next to her, a bloody hole in his forehead. A snarling man stood in front of her, gun pointed at her chest as she trembled, pleading and crying. Her purse was on the ground with the gunman snarling at her for her jewelry.

The black, masked figure darted around the corner. He kept to the shadows, out of the sight range of both the woman and the gunman. He adjusted his mask, making sure it covered the lower part of his face. The black face paint around his eyes did a good job of blending in under his hood.

He took a deep breath and stepped out, keeping a light tread. The gunman was still snarling and barking at the cowering woman. Neither noticed him.

He stepped up quickly, wrapping an arm around the gunman's throat. He gagged, flailing and hitting the masked man in the ribs. He grunted but kept a firm grip.

"Go..." He growled, eyes flashing as another elbow hit him in the gut. "Get to safety..."

The woman hesitated and stared for a moment before grabbing her purse and running, her high heels clacking on the cobblestones. He felt himself being thrown against a wall, his head jarring back against the concrete. He lost his hold and gasped, seeing white spots dance before his eyes. He ducked, barely missing a solid punch to the side of his head. He stumbled back, giving himself room to move. The gunman lashed out with a sloppy right hook. The masked figure stepped in, catching his arm and sweeping his feet out from under him. The gunman hit the ground with a hard thwack, his head bouncing. He raised his arm, trying to aim the gun through his blurred vision. The figure grabbed his wrist, twisting it and getting a sharp yelp as the gun fell to the ground with a clatter. He punched the unarmed man one last time, knocking him out successfully.

He stood, hearing the footsteps of people running towards him. He bit his lip. It would have to be a quick job then. He waved his hand, using the multiple shadows around him to lift the attacker and tie him up to the fire escape above them. He figured he had enough time to climb the wall and get away cleanly without many people seeing him. Little did he know a small group was closer than he thought. He commanded the shadows to wrap around the gunman securely so he wouldn't fall until he was cut down.

"They're down here!" A voice yelled from behind him. His eyes widened.

'Shit, shit, shit!' He thought, spinning around to face the men at the end of the alley. They stared at him and he stared back. Blood racing through his veins, he began to try and think of a way out, a way to get away from the crowd without using his power. No great ideas came to him and forced his hand.

He brought his arms in tight and clenched his fists, drawing the shadows into a solid mass and disappearing into them. He felt the changes in temperature and smell as he let his body break down and reconstruct itself on the roof above. He heard the astonished shouts and yells of alarm.

"Where'd he go?!"

"He vanished!"

"The bastard!"

"What?! What happened?! I can't see!"

He smiled, crouching and looking down. He remembered that same feeling of awe, a feeling he still got. One of the younger men looked up at him. His eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

"He's on the roof!" The man yelled, pointing at the figure sitting on the roof. Everyone looked up, staring at the hooded and masked figure on the roof. He reeled back, falling on his behind.

He sat there for a few seconds before getting up and jumping the substantial gap between the buildings. He heard them all gasp as he stuck the landing, rolling and running far from the site. He needed to get away.

He stopped a few blocks away and checked his abdomen. No cracks or breakages. Just heaps of bruising. He winced. He'd have to be careful of that at work. Sighing, he started jogging towards his flat, already imagining his warm bed that he could retreat to for a couple of hours.

* * *

The monotonous blare of the alarm clock sounded in Detective Inspector Joseph Chandler's ear as the hour changed to six o'clock. He lifted his head off the pillow, staring at the glowing red digital numbers before huffing. He had been having such a nice dream. One that kept returning and made him feel safe and comfortable, no matter what atrocities London threw at him the night before.

He rolled onto his back and smiled at the fading memory of his dream. One phrase from it continued to drift through his head.

' _I'm never leaving you behind..._ ' It curled itself through his thoughts, settling itself deeply in his subconscious. His smile lingered a few minutes more as he stared at the ceiling.

Shutting off his still blaring alarm, Chandler pushed himself into a sitting position. He stretched and looked over his bedroom. Neat and tidy. Everything in it's proper place. He sighed, feeling in control and safe here. It was the same feeling he got in his office when it had been a particularly stressful day. Getting up, he stretched and ran a hand through his now messy blond hair. He watched as a few locks fell into his eye line. He squinted, reaching up and brushing them back only for them to fall back in front of his eyes. They'd be dealt with soon enough, he decided as he settled into his normal morning rituals.

After completing his usual tasks, he grabbed his keys and walked out of his apartment. Pausing for a moment before the elevator, he checked his pockets. His phone. He was missing his phone. Chandler jogged back to his apartment, pulling out his keys and unlocking the door. He hurried into his bedroom and found it sitting on his bedside table where he always kept it. Flicking through any new messages, Chandler jogged back to the elevator and waited.

The elevator dinged, signalling it had arrived and Chandler stepped in. He sighed and swayed on his heels, trying to keep the classic elevator music from getting stuck in his head. As he waited for the ground level he began to wonder what the day ahead would present. Possibly a murder or two. Something interesting hopefully. Things had been quiet recently, since the fake Kray twins had been killed. He grimaced at the memory. They had been so close to prosecuting them. So, so close. Especially after what they did to Kent... Chandler grimaced at the memory of Kent being rushed to hospital.

The doors opened, revealing the lobby of his apartment building. Chandler pushed off the back wall of the elevator and headed straight towards the car park. It was still dark out in the car park, the buildings surrounding it blocking out the sun light. Chandler nodded to a few business men who were also up early on their way to work. Reaching his car, he slid into the driver's seat, turning the engine. It purred quietly and he drove to work, thinking the whole way.

* * *

Chandler was slightly surprised to see Ray Miles, his DS, waiting for him in the Whitechapel Police Headquarters car park. He parked his car and got out, taking the key out of the ignition.

"Miles? Rolling out the welcome mat now?" Chandler raised an eyebrow at the older man.

The greying man scoffed, his cockney accent showing through. "Not on your life. We just got something in. Several calls to police early hours this morning. The Commander wants to know if you're interested ASAP."

Chandler frowned. "Unusual?"

"More than that."

Chandler sighed. "Lead on then."

Miles nodded and pushed open the back door, holding it for his boss. Chandler nodded a thanks, heading to the stairs.

"Any idea what it is?" He asked, climbing up the stairs.

Miles shrugged. "Whitehchapel's got itself a vigilante now, at least according to several calls at four this morning."

"A vigilante?" Chandler smirked slightly.

"Yep. Could just be a kid in costume or something." Miles grimaced, finding it easy to disbelieve.

"Any witnesses?" Chandler asked, looking at the shorter male.

"Just one that saw him appear. Darcy Blackborn. Says he saved her life." He grumbled. "And then we have a group of people who seemed to have scared him off."

"What makes it something for us then?"

Miles stopped outside a door and looked at him. "They all said that he used shadows to tie up a guy. Daniel Guiness attacked Darcy and shot her boyfriend. Vigilante comes in and takes Daniel out, giving Darcy a chance to run. She gets the attention of some guys who stayed late at a couple of bars. They go running to the scene to help our vigilante and find him apparently using the shadows to string the guy up. He then turns and stares at the accumulating crowd before disappearing. They look around, find no trace. One looks up and sees him standing on the roof. First responders didn't see him. He was long gone by the time they got there."

"So he's using mirrors or smoke?" Chandler suggests.

Miles shrugs. "Could be. Could be something else... She's in here."

Miles opens the door to a small room, more like an office than an interrogation room. The side wall was lined with books of varying age. A young woman with auburn hair tied back in a messy ponytail sat in one of the chairs, seeming very small. Her mascara had mixed with tears, leaving black spidery lines down her cheeks. She looked like she hadn't even gone home to get changed as she was still wearing a cherry red dress with matching red stilettos. She looked up as they entered, green eyes puffy and red from crying.

Miles shut the door, giving them privacy. The woman stood, straightening herself out. She swallowed, nodding to both men.

"Darcy Blackborn?" Chandler asks kindly, gesturing to a seat for her to sit. "I'm DI Chandler and this is DS Miles. Can you please tell us what you told the first responders?"

Darcy nodded slowly, swallowing. She took a deep breath before delving into her story again. "M-my boyfriend, Matt, and I were out partying with friends last night. We had had a few beers like you do when you're out with mates and decided to head home at about three, maybe half past three? Matt said he knew a shortcut to our apartment. It went along the alleys between the blocks. He said no one uses it... At first I didn't want to go but it was late and I was a bit drunk so we took the shortcut... If I hadn't of drunk too much we wouldn't have had to go that way... It's my fault..." She sobbed, another round of tears falling down her cheeks.

Miles coughed awkwardly while Chandler patted her knee, trying to be comforting.

"Miss Blackborn? We really need to know what happened after." He tried gently to get her talking again.

"H-huh? Oh... M-Matt and I only got a few streets over when some guy pulled a gun on us... Matt tried to stand up to him, you know, all tough and macho. So th-the guy shoots him! In the forehead... H-he then turns the gun on me and demands all my je-jewelry and money... I say n-no and he threatens to shoot me too so I scream." She manages to speak, stuttering every now and then with tears building in her eyes. "T-that's when he showed up. He came out of nowhere and took the mugger on. H-he told me to run so I did. He saved my life..."

Chandler looked up at Miles who's face turned grim.

Miles took the silence as an opportunity to ask their victim a question "Darcy? What'd this guy look like? The one who saved you."

Darcy hiccupped and took a few breaths.

"In your own time." Chandler added.

"He was medium build." Darcy started, struggling to remember. "Thin, like a runner but stronger..."

"What about his face?"

She shook her head. "Couldn't see his face. He was wearing a mask of some sort that covered from his nose down... I could just see his eyes under his hood. They were brown."

Miles sighed exasperatedly. "What was he wearing then?"

"All black. I couldn't see properly..." She whispered, more tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. "I'm sorry I can't be more help."

"It's alright, love. It's enough for now." Miles soothes. "If you remember anything, don't be afraid to call."

Darcy nods, standing up. Chandler did the same, motioning towards the door. "We'll have an officer take you home."

Darcy left the room, escorted out and down the stairs by Miles to get a uniform to take her home safely. Chandler lingered behind and pondered the case. He could see why Commander Anderson would hand them this one. It was strange, interesting. He had kept his promise. Chandler smiled, walking out to find Miles already back outside the door.

"So, we taking it or not?" He asked, falling into step beside Chandler as they walked to the incident room.

Chandler grinned and nodded. "Yes, it's everything we've needed. It's interesting and for once, it seems we're not chasing the bad guy."

Miles snorts. "How does leaving a man in hospital after nearly asphyxiating him not make him a bad guy?"

"He saved a woman's life," Chandler reminded him. "And he didn't kill him. He isn't a killer."

"As far as we know." Miles muttered, pushing open the door to their team's incident room.

Everyone looked up, already at work. Three whiteboards had already been set up on one side of the room, ready for names, pictures and any other information to be put up. Chandler turned to look at Miles, raising an eyebrow.

"I knew you were going to take it." Miles shrugged. "You would never turn down something like this."

Chandler looks around at the others, Mansell, Riley, Kent, and Buchan. They all looked at him expectantly, waiting for orders.

"Alright... As you've all guessed, we're taking this case. I want eyes open for anything and everything. We don't know if the press has got hold of it yet, but if they have, we may have another Ripper scenario on our hands. Which means we have to move quickly. I want possible names and if there are any previous occurrences, I want to know about them.You know what to do."

Everyone nodded, not needing to be told twice. Mansell went on to look through online newspaper articles and other websites for possible leads while Buchan scurried off to his basement lair of criminal cases from around the world. He was still fairly new to the group and still buzzed happily at the idea of delving into the world of historical crimes again. Riley began researching their databases for possible suspects. Miles joined Mansell in scraping over the internet searches for anything of use. Chandler went to find the file for the new case.

This left Kent sitting behind his desk, slightly paler than usual. He rubbed his middle, feeling the slight twinge of his bruises. Things just got a hell of a lot more serious for him. He slipped down a bit in his chair, swallowing and closing his eyes. If they found out he would be screwed.

He bit his lip, thinking quietly. He couldn't just stop, could he? No, he couldn't. He had made a promise to himself after being 'striped' by the Krays and then the incident when he was a teen... He really couldn't just stop. That he knew. If he did stop, it would catch up with him and then there was Chandler. He shook his head, trying to keep his thoughts from drifting more than he could help and decided to focus on finding false leads.

* * *

The day dragged with very little progress being made. Chandler stood in front of the boards, rearranging the few photos that had been pinned up with blutack. Considering they had very little to go on, he reckoned they had done well to find some information. He stared at each of the photos as he pushed them back onto the board. Whoever the figure was, he had done a good job of hiding his identity, he had to give him that.

"Coffee?" Miles asked, stepping up beside him and holding up the coffee pot.

Chandler glanced at him, startled at the sudden voice. "Pardon? Oh, yes please."

Miles nodded, pouring two mugs. "Tricky bastard, huh?"

"Yeah... How has no one noticed someone being a superhero on the streets of Whitechapel?" Chandler asked, completely stumped. He gazed at a photo from the night before. It was faintly grainy, obviously from a phone but still gave an okay picture.

Miles shrugged. "Well, if he was standing in an alley in the shadows next to you would you notice him?" He asks. "And how often do you go on the roof of your apartment building at night?"

"Good point..." Chandler sighed, exasperated.

"You're not gonna start counting pins again, are you?" Miles asked with a wry smile, ribbing him gently about his condition.

Chandler chuckled lightly, recognizing the older man's attempt at humour. "Not yet. Wha-"

He was cut off by Mansell yelling across the room. "Boss! You need to see this!" He had turned up the volume on the t.v., catching everyone's attention. A news report was broadcasting from outside the alley where Darcy had been attacked and then saved.

"...The mob apparently saw the man use what they called darkness to tie up repeating offender Daniel Guiness. The people who witnessed this hooded and masked figure have started calling him Shadow and rumours have now begun to circulate about what this masked man can really do." The reporter stated, using an alarming amount of hand gestures. "We have set a Shadow Search in motion and anyone with information is urged to call our hot line scrolling across the bottom of your screen."

Miles growled. "Great. Just great."

Chandler sighed. This was going to be a long case and everything just got more stressful. "Let's just all try and get this guy before the press." He murmured as he entered his office, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Kent flopped on his bed, groaning. Things were messed up. Really messed up. It had been two weeks since they were handed the case and the team had found more and more. He'd had a few close calls, bare misses along an alley, over a roof and down fire escape. He was on edge now. Every time he came so close to using them, the shadows, to get away.

He turned his head, glancing at his wardrobe before standing and stretching. Kent pulled open the doors, taking out the box hidden at the bottom. He set it on his bed, carefully opening it. Inside sat a black mask with white lips and a faint white pattern on the cheeks. It was cut off just under the eyes, leaving them visible. He smiled, picking it up and holding it fondly. Tracing his fingers over the light designs, he grabbed another box, placed under the first.

Within five minutes, he was outside and a completely different person. He sat on the top of his building, breathing in the cool night air. He stayed there for a while, thinking and looking out over the city. London really did look breath taking at night. All lit up and sparkling like far off stars.

He stood slowly, feeling a gentle wind at his back before jumping and spiralling through the air. He landed in a roll and came up running. He felt free, happy, alive.

__Little did Kent know, this night was going to go down hill quickly. Very quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

Chandler walked around the incident room, picking up the balled up paper and useless scraps that appeared at the end of every day. Everyone else had already gone home, the sky darkening considerably as he set the bin back down by Miles' desk.

He sighed and rubbed his temples, a habit he had earned over his years with OCD. He looked back at the problem that was stressing him out. There was pretty much nothing they could use to catch this guy. Zip, nada, zilch.

After staring at the boards for another five minutes Chandler huffed and gave up for the night, trudging into his office to grab his coat.

As he was just about to leave, flicking the light switch off, the office phone rang. The sound of it's shrill rings bounced around the near empty office and incident room, making DI Chandler look back from the main door.

He frowned. Who would be ringing at this hour? He checked his watch. 11:20 p.m. He grimaced and jogged back, pressing the light switch as he passed it.

Raising the phone to his ear, he heard the gruff voice of one of the uniforms downstairs. "There's been a sighting of your guy." He stated.

"Where?" Chandler asked instantly, eyes lighting up. This was exactly what they needed.

The uniform gave the address, hanging up afterwards. Chandler grinned, trotting back out of his office, turning off the lights, and out of the incident room. He fished his phone from his pocket, calling his team and giving them the address.

Everyone picked up and agreed to come except Kent. Every time Chandler tried there was no answer, just Kent's answer phone blaring with each missed call. Chandler frowned deeply, his good mood evaporating quickly. Kent always picked up, no matter what. He sighed, hopping in his car and speeding over, hoping that one of the others could manage to get hold of him.

* * *

The square was small, just a backstreet intersection where the team met. Everyone was looking around, noticing their one missing team member.

"Where's Kent? He finally got a date?" Mansell asked, smirking.

Riley grinned deviously and shook her head. "No. Even if he managed to get one, he'd be here for the boss."

"Yeah." He nodded, looking thoughtful. "So where do you think he is?"

"Don't know... Late?" Riley suggested, raising an eyebrow.

Mansell considered it and agreed slowly. "Probably..."

The two DCs began coming up with several different ideas on why Kent wasn't there, each one more insane than it's predecessor. They cackled quietly, waiting for orders from their boss.

Buchan came running up to Chandler, clutching a tan coloured folder in his hands. "Sir! I found it!"

Chandler spun around, confused. "Found what?"

"The file!" Buchan grinned like a child in a candy shop. "1993, a vigilante haunted the streets of New York city for three years before he was caught and put up for trial! All of it was very hush hush!"

Chandler raised an eyebrow, wincing slightly at the volume at which Buchan was yelling. "So they caught him? It is possible? And can you please quieten down a bit?"

Buchan nodded, lowering his voice to a more tolerable level though he was still excited. "Yes. Though he didn't seem to be as sophisticated and able as our one is but the same principle is there. It is possible to catch him."

Chandler thought for a moment, holding up a hand for quiet as the researcher began to ramble on with the smaller details of the case.

"How'd they do it?" He asked, staring over Buchan's shoulder.

Buchan paused mid-rant and looked confused. "Pardon?"

"How did they catch him?" Chandler repeated, his stress levels rising slowly.

Buchan flicked through the file, pushing his glasses up his nose as he skimmed and skipped through the reports. "Hmm... It doesn't... Ah! Here it is!" He exclaimed, prodding the page. "They caught him when he was cornered on a roof. He tried to run away and fell down between the buildings. Broke a couple of ribs and his arm on the way down." Buchan grinned, looking way too happy about it.

Chandler nodded slowly. He looked around, noticing that one person still hadn't shown up. "Where's Kent?" He muttered as Miles came up beside him.

"He'll show up eventually." Miles said. "Everyone's getting impatient."

Chandler sighed and nodded. "Let's get this started then."

They gathered the remainder of the team, Chandler briefing them all on the call properly.

"So what are we supposed to do? Shadow's probably already moved on by now." Mansell pointed out, frowning.

Chandler grimaced. "We need to lure him back then."

Riley rolled her eyes. "And how on earth do you plan on doing that?"

Before Chandler could answer a scream split the night, catching everyone's attention. They paused only a moment before sprinting towards the shrill alarm, each taking a separate route along the alleys. The site they saw wasn't what they expected.

* * *

Kent jogged over the roofs, holding his arms out for balance whenever he was unsure of whether he would fall from his precarious perch. A smile graced his face as he bolted, eyes shining in the cool night.

He stopped for just a moment in a small square, barely noticing the young woman taking out her cell phone and calling the police. He stretched, feeling at ease, and loosened his muscles, listening to the audible clicks and cracks his bones made.

He stared upwards at the moon, beginning to try to count the craters as a way to wind down before starting again. This peaceful activity didn't last long as his phone started vibrating in his pocket. Jumping, Kent looked around and searched for what had brought him down out of his thoughts. Finally he searched his pockets, catching hold of the buzzing object.

Turning it on, he glanced at the screen briefly. 'Joe Chandler calling' it read with a picture of his boss that Kent had managed to snap at Miles's birthday. Kent grinned at the memory. That had been a good night. Games and alcohol really seemed to put the team at rest after a long day and an impossible case.

He hesitated before turning his phone completely off and glancing around the place. Someone had been there. Someone had been there and notified the police of his whereabouts. He gritted his teeth and took off down the dark and dingy maze of alleys until he could find someway to get to the roof. He slipped along a dark street, turning away when he saw Riley's car pass the curb and turn to come down the road. Kent panicked. He ducked into a thin space between the buildings and shuffled through to the next street. Things were getting more dangerous for him now. Couldn't they just let him do this? He was saving lives and whatnot. He was making not just Whitechapel safer but London as a whole. Of course he knew why they were doing this, it was their job after all, but the frustration still lingered.

He paused for a breather a few streets away in a grimy back lot. He leaned against one of the slippery walls, keeping an eye on the street out of the tunnel. He closed his eyes momentarily, breathing deeply through his nose in an effort to calm himself down. He pushed his hood back and ran a hand through his curly black hair, blinking up at the lonely streetlight that lit this alcove. He took the time to look around the space more closely, seeing that there were a few drain pipes he could clamber up and another tunnel out should he need it. The place was made of old brick, covered in lichen and dirt. He wondered absently whether it would've looked nice at one point in time.

He was broken out of his idle thoughts by a high pitched scream. Kent rushed across the courtyard and up the drain pipe in a flash, hauling himself easily onto the roof. He looked around, seeing a faint flash from a few streets away and ran towards it. He hoped against hope that he wasn't too late for whatever it was. He darted to the edge of a roof, pausing before diving down into the shadows and letting himself disappear. He reappeared on the ground, crouching low. A gang was standing around a girl, laughing with twisted grins and closing in on her.

"Come on, love... We won't bite." One, the leader most likely, smiled stepping forward. His cronies cackled, nudging each other.

Kent felt his blood boil in his veins. Why was it always the women? Why couldn't criminals for once grow some balls and take on a man? Not that he wanted that to happen but still. Why couldn't they go after someone their own size? The girl looked like she wasn't even twenty. Barely a match for even the youngest man. He straightened and stepped out. His boots made no noise on the cobblestones. He growled softly as one of the men turned around.

"Hey! Boss! Seems like we have a wannabe hero over here!" He sneered, waving a hand at Kent. He was probably drunk or high. Most likely a combination of the two.

Kent gritted his teeth as the rest of the gang turn, the one who spoke jabbing him in the chest. He grabbed his hand, twisting it sharply and hearing a satisfying crack. The man screeched, yanking his hand back and jolting away a couple of metres. The girl didn't hesitate before running off, her heels click-clacking on the cobblestones. The gang began to move in, closing ranks around Kent. There were about ten left, not counting the one with the broken wrist. He smirked.

' _Finally something a bit more interesting..._ ' He thought, calming his breathing and drinking in what was around him. He reached out, stirring the shadows slightly in case he needed them. He kept his arms in tight and ready as they advanced.

* * *

Chandler and the team followed the scream, running down different alleys until a man, beaten and bruised came sprinting out of a side street, screaming at the top of his lungs that "The Shadow was going to get him". He rammed into Mansell, nearly taking him off his feet, and ran off, pointing in the direction of an alley not far up the next street.

They followed the direction of his pointing and came to a sight they never would've expected. A man dressed all in black taking on another man, presumably a gangster who was waving a knife around. The man with the knife came in close, swiping and digging it into the Shadow's shoulder. He hissed, planting a foot in the man's gut and pushing off, throwing himself back before lashing out with the darkness of the alley. It sharpened, piercing the gangster's side and wrapping around him.

The team watched on in awe as the Shadow lifted his hands slowly, tying him to the banister of a fire escape. They didn't appear in his vision till after he had finished stringing the gangster up when Buchan decided at that moment to utter an "Oh... My...God..."

The Shadow's masked face whipped around. He stared at them, ignoring the blood seeping down his forehead and through the hole in his jacket. He stalled for just a moment, just long enough for Chandler to get a good look at his eyes and put a name to him.

Emerson Kent.

But it couldn't be...Could it? Kent had always been so mild mannered, small almost. He still looked like a kid and was treated like the baby of the office. They all stared at one another for a moment before Kent bolted, turning tail and not caring for his injuries. He skidded around the corner, Chandler hot on his heels. He knew he couldn't climb a pipe without time with his arm and other injuries so instead he turned to his knowledge of the streets so far.

Chandler followed him closely, not letting the Shadow lose him along the winding streets. Everyone else had dropped back, attempting to predict where he was headed, what street he was going to pick. He followed closely, keeping him within sight.

Chandler soon found himself being led into an area he knew. It wasn't far from one of the main hubs around Whitechapel. The deep throbbing of the bass vibrating through the air. The distant sound of dubstep seemed to almost animate their situation with Chandler's heart hammering in time with the steady beat.

He followed, confused, as the Shadow ran for a dead end. By the route he had taken it was clear to Chandler that he knew the streets quite well... So why was he taking a dead end alley in an attempt to get away?


	3. Chapter 3

Kent knew from the moment Chandler saw him he was caught. He knew he wouldn't be able to shake the older man off his tail when he was this busted up. He also knew that he shouldn't be running with the gash in his head. One wrong step on a roof and he'd be taking a long drop with a short stop. The lights that marched down the streets he passed through started to dance and swim in his vision.

' _Shit... I need to stop..._ ' Kent thought, keeping a steady stride. _'I need to rest..._ '

Most of the gang were easy to deal with; a couple of good, clean punches and kicks and all but three had gone down. One had somehow managed to sneak up behind him and land a solid hit to the back of his head. Another lashed out, hitting his ribs but not breaking any. He could still feel the dull ache from every hit, kick and punch in his muscles.

Kent tried to think up the map of streets that he had memorized for this sort of occasion. He watched as they assembled themselves in his minds eye before they started to blur into each other and mix themselves up. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind enough to put a route together. All that came to him was broken pieces of a map to an alley where he could safely get to the roofs and get away.

He followed the route, filling in the blanks with some difficulty. He could hear his DI keeping up and steadily catching up to him. Kent growled, clenching his fists and feeling the shadows wrap around them.

After five minutes of running and getting lighter and lighter headed, Kent found himself sprinting down the alley he needed. Glancing around, he found what he was looking for. A broken fire escape. He had passed it a few nights back and committed it to memory for a good back up. He ran for the stairs that hung down, stumbling around some of the holes and rusted steps. He was nearly at the second level when his vision went blurry. Everything became fuzzy as he fumbled around for the railing, something to steady himself on.

Chandler skidded to a stop under the fire escape, staring upwards as the man that he thought was his youngest DC flailed around on the second story landing. He leaned heavily on the railing for just a moment. The rusted metal groaned, whining about the sudden weight before giving out entirely.

Kent hung there for a moment, suspended in the air. His eyes widened as he fell backwards, slipping off the landing. Chandler's expression mimicked Kent's as he darted forward in an attempt to catch the injured male. Kent flailed his arms and legs, trying to grab onto something before hitting a large garbage bin.

He lay there, gasping for breath as he checked for any new pain. Nothing ultimately worrying appeared to him as he slowly got his breath back, closing his eyes. No broken or fractured bones or twisted limbs. He was lucky. A ringing silence filled his ears, high in pitch but not enough to be painful. He grimaced. It was beginning to get irritating. All he wanted was for it to stop. He groaned as another noise began to invade his head.

"Kent?" It called, faint over the ringing. It sounded familiar. "Kent?! Are you alright?!"

Kent frowned, screwing his eyes up. His mind was racing and spinning, making it difficult to even think straight. He knew he recognized the voice. He knew that it was someone he was quite close to. Heck, he couldn't remember what had even happened in the last few minutes. All he knew was that he had been chased around the area by Chandler.

Chandler.

That's where he knew it from. His boss. His friend. Joseph Chandler was trying to find out if he was okay. Kent held back the small smile that threatened to twist his lips behind his mask and cracked his eyes open a slice. He stared up at a very concerned Chandler dazedly, trying to say that yes, he was fine and that he'd fallen further than that before. All that came out of his throat was a slightly pained groan.

Chandler became more worried and flustered at the sound, nearly ripping his coat pocket open as he scrambled for his phone. He fingers flew across the screen, typing in his pass code and dialing emergency services.

Waiting nervously, he glanced at Kent to check he hadn't passed out on him. Kent's eyes, though still dazed, watched Chandler's every move. Slowly he found his mind becoming clearer, his situation making more sense.

Trying to sit up, he made an attempt to grab Chandler's phone away from his ear. Chandler pushed him back down lightly, switching his phone to the other ear. Earning an irritated mumble, Chandler quickly explained where he was and only the most needed information to the dispatcher on the other end of the phone line. The dispatcher stated that she had already sent an ambulance and that they would be there soon.

Chandler hung up, turning to look at Kent who was still sprawled on his back on top of the bin. "Kent? Can you speak?"

Kent groaned, a muffled response coming from behind the mask.

Chandler stepped forward carefully, holding his hands up as he approached Kent. He tensed, trying to sit up and move away.

"Kent, I need you to calm down, okay? I'm not going to hurt you..."

Kent managed to prop his back up against the wall, hearing a slight creaking from his joints. It was nothing rest couldn't cure. A dry laugh left his lips. ' _Like you'd be able to._ ' He thought.

"Can I get you to take the mask off?" Chandler asked softly, standing in front of him. Kent tensed at the request, staring Chandler directly in the eye. His hands curled into fists, riling up the shadows for defense just in case.

Chandler could tell Kent wasn't comfortable with the idea and was on the alert. He backed up a few steps, giving the younger man the space it seemed he needed. He kept his breathing under control and tried to stop his heart pounding in his ears.

After a few minutes of hesitation Kent reached up slowly, pushing his hood back. His hand brushed over the gash along the top of his forehead, making him wince slightly. He reached behind his head, undoing the knot hidden in his hair. Pulling the mask off, he turned it around in his hands. He grimaced at the blood that tainted the white design and lips. Setting it down on his knee, he leaned his head back onto the wall.

"Go on. Lecture me." Kent mumbled, his shoulders slumping. He looked like a student expecting to be ranted at by a teacher. "Tell me how what I've been doing is the wrong thing to do and how a detective should know better. Tell me how long I can go to jail for this. Tell me the consequences, that I let you down."

"Yes, the fact that you resorted to this is considered wrong by the law and many others," Chandler stared at him for a long moment before sighing, "but personally, I don't think it's any different to what we're doing. You're getting out there and dealing with the crimes before they happen, or rather as they happen. Don't think you've let me down, Kent. You figured if you had a power like this then you should use it for something that could benefit the community. I don't blame you and I'm not going to give you a lecture about it... I just wish you had told me."

Kent barked a laugh. His defensive posture was back. This was the sharpest Chandler had ever seen Kent, eyes cold and lips twisting into a self-deprecating smile. "How could I have told you? A note on your desk? That would've worked great, huh? 'Dear DI Chandler, I do not wish to startle you but I am Shadow. Signed, DC Emerson Kent'."

Chandler gave him a look that clearly displayed that he was not impressed with Kent's sudden outburst.

"I'm sorry, sir... I just didn't think I'd end up being caught like this. Honestly, I thought it would be Miles." Kent glanced up from behind his hair, turning back into the Kent Chandler knew and loved.

Chandler's ears pricked at the oncoming sound of the ambulance. "Pass me your mask... We don't need you going down for this..."

"Sir, you'll be labeled an accomplice!" Kent exclaimed, worry clear in his voice.

"Give me the mask, Kent." Chandler nearly snapped, stepping closer to him and holding a hand out for the ceramic visage. "We've already lost Fitzgerald and McCormack from our team, Emerson. I don't want to lose you."

A chuckle passed Kent's lips as a dry smile appeared on his face. "I never knew you'd be the type to cheat the police."

A small smile graced Chandler's lips. "To catch a criminal you need to think like a criminal." He chuckled softly. "Have you got an idea for a story?"

Kent nodded, growing paler from his wounds by he second. "Costume party at one of the clubs. I decided to head home. Got mugged and when you were passing by when you found me."

"Very good." Chandler nodded. He schooled his expression into one of casual worry as the red and blue lights of the ambulance and the siren came around the corner, illuminating them both as they drew nearer. Kent offered a small smile.

"Thanks, sir. Really.... And can you not tell anyone about this?"

"Alright. It's no problem, Emerson." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Do... Do you want me to come with you?"

"I think I'll be fine... It's a bit better than the striping." He admits as the paramedics come flocking down the alley, surrounding Kent. Chandler backed off, speaking briefly with one of the paramedics before leaving.

After a quick evaluation from the medics Kent was ushered into the ambulance and taken to hospital to be stitched up. All he could really do was sit quietly and hope that Chandler kept his word about not telling the others.

* * *

After leaving Kent in the capable hands of the paramedics, Chandler began to trudge back towards the square his team had met at earlier that night. Pulling out his phone again, he unlocked it and noticed several missed messages from Miles and Riley. He grimaced. Those two were really going to wear him down about what happened. He could almost hear his self proclaimed 'Nanny Miles' now.

Groaning at the prospect, he listened to each message getting more and more degrading about how he was like a toddler and needed constant supervision. Chandler allowed a small smile, knowing that this was how Miles showed that he cared. He was a gruff East London man, after all, and didn't do hugs or chick flick moments.

Deleting the calls, he moved onto Riley's messages. These were of a more mother-like nature and slowly got more stern as they repeated themselves five times over. Chandler deleted these too and dialed Miles first. He figured it made sense to deal with his DS before anyone else.

He walked as he listened to the phone connect, bracing himself for the oncoming torrent of nearly insults from the older man as he stepped in time to the dial tone.

"Where the bloody hell are you?! We've been looking for you everywhere!" Chandler winced, putting some distance between his ear and his mobile.

"Miles?... Miles..." He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to get a word in edge ways. "Miles!"

The raging DS huffed and cut his rant short, calling Chandler a child several more times before letting him explain himself.

"I'm on Spelman Street..." He sighed, finding a street sign.

"Are you alright? The lot of us heard an ambulance go screaming past a few minutes ago."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine... Perfectly fine."

"Good. We don't need to go through the hell of getting a new DI again then." Chandler could hear Miles snort slightly through the connection.

"It wasn't that bad, was it? Better for you than it was for me." He chuckled softly, happy for the distraction from his worry about Kent.

"You didn't have a new boss."

"You didn't have a whole team on your back."

"True that."

"I'm coming back. Where are you all?" Chandler asked, looking around as he walked

"A couple of streets away. We'll meet you at the corner of Greatorex and Hanbury street." Miles hummed, directing the information at the other three with him.

"Okay. I'll meet you there soon." Chandler started off at a slow jog towards the intersection.

"Bring him with ya. We'll get a van down here to take him back to the cells for the night."

"That might be a bit hard, Miles."

Miles went silent for a moment. "He got away, didn't he?"

"Yeah. Got on the roofs and I lost him." Chandler nearly told Miles the truth, that the Shadow was Kent. The words were perched on the tip of his tongue but came out as a lie. He was amazed at how easy it was for him to lie for Kent.

"Great. Just great." Miles growled.

"I'll meet up with you soon."

"Yeah, sure. Don't lose yourself along the way."

"I won't." Chandler huffed, sounding like a child. __

* * *

Miles, Mansell, Riley and Buchan didn't have to wait long for their DI to come trotting around the corner. They met him half way, asking questions about what had happened. He answered each as it came, keeping his promise to Kent in mind as he spoke. He quickly found his temper begin to boil, feeling more and more protective of his youngest DC.

"So what? He just got to the top and disappeared?" Mansell asked, not noticing the deep breaths Chandler was trying to take to calm himself down.

"Yes." He answered through gritted teeth. "I saw him go up, I followed. When I got there he had disappeared."

Miles picked up on the change in behavior and sighed, grimacing. "Alright. Go on, bugger off. We'll expect you the usual time tomorrow morning." He shepherds the other three off, coming back to Chandler a couple of moments later.

"Spill it." He demands, crossing his arms.

"Spill what?" Chandler snaps, glaring at him.

Miles gave him a stubborn stare. "You're obviously moody for a reason. Why?"

Chandler huffs, hopping from one foot to the other. He was suddenly finding it quite hard to stay still. "No reason."

"Listen, I've been a copper most of my life and either I'm getting real rusty or I'd say you knew him." Miles stated gruffly, keeping his eyes trained on his younger DI.

"What are you on about?"

"You know who Shadow is."

"No, I don't."

"The way you took after him says otherwise."

"How does that prove anything?!"

"That right there is what it explains. You're yelling." Miles points at him, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Go on. Enlighten me."

Chandler hesitated. To tell Miles that Kent was Shadow would be betraying Kent, but with Miles in on it, it would be easier to keep it quiet. And Miles would stop asking questions as well as helping protect the youngest member of their team. He started to weigh up both sides of the argument, his lips forming a thin line as his hands itched. He started rubbing his temples, feeling the need to calm down.

Miles could see the miniature war going on behind Chandler's blue eyes and he could see the fact it was annoying him greatly, making his OCD rear it's ugly head. He knew that reaction. He knew it all too well. Chandler had reacted the same way when he heard Kent had been taken to hospital, when McCormack had hung himself to get away from the Krays, when the Krays themselves were killed before their trial and when Morgan Lamb was killed by the murderer's mother. He knew it was when Chandler was feeling out of control. He sighed, quickly eliminating the possibilities. It had to be someone close to Chandler, quite close. Mansell wouldn't be able to pull off anything like that, Buchan definitely wouldn't be able to and Chandler had no immediate enemies at the moment. So that left only...

"It's the kid, isn't it?"

Chandler stared at him in such a way that reminded Miles of a deer in the headlights; wide eyes and complete shock. He sighed, scratching his head and digging his hands into his pockets.

"You promised Kent you wouldn't tell, didn't you?" He asks, specifying the question.

It took a moment for Chandler to nod. He looked away, guilt obvious on his face. Miles couldn't tell straight away whether it was guilt that he had lied to his team or that he had given away the youngest DC's secret, but he felt more compelled to believe the latter reason.

"The ambulance was for him, wasn't it?"

"Yeah... He fell off a fire escape and I called the ambulance." Chandler admitted.

"I thought you did things by the book."

"So did I..."

An uneasy quiet fell between the two men. Miles gave an amused chuckle a few minutes later, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Chandler stared at him, his guilt being replaced with confusion.

"I always knew, you know." He smirked, gently ribbing Chandler as he started the not so long walk back to their cars.

Chandler took a moment to process what his DS had said. After more than thirty seconds of trying to deduce what Miles had meant he gave up, jogging to catch up with the older but apparently still very fit man.

"What do you mean you always knew? Knew what?"

Miles grinned triumphantly, looking at him. "I always knew. I knew those women weren't right for you."

Chandler frowned, finally getting what Miles was grinning about. He huffed, unable to hide the faint pink tinge in his cheeks. "I really thought our friendship had moved on from you thinking I'm gay, Miles."

"Nope. I always knew. If you're worried about a reaction from the boys, don't worry. They're above all that." Miles shrugged, not missing the blush on his boss' cheeks.

"Miles, I appreciate your openness and inclusivity but I'm not gay." Chandler pressed, trying to silence the voice yelling that everything that was coming out of his mouth was a lie.

Miles raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Oh really?

"Yes, really." The look in Miles' eyes made Chandler rethink his answer. If he had betrayed one of Kent's secrets to Miles, even if by mistake, then wasn't it due course for him to give up some information that he would never tell anyone? "Fine. Yes, I am. Are you happy now?"

"Very." Miles laughed softly. "Don't worry... I'll keep quiet about both until it's ready to be said."

Chandler nodded slowly, a small smile gracing his lips. "Thank you. Kent would probably thank you as well if he was here."

Miles begins walking again, stretching as he walked. "He has a soft spot for you, you know."

"What?"

"Kent. Since you first walked in, he's had a soft spot for you." Miles sighed exasperatedly at Chandler's totally confused demeanor. "God, you really don't notice it... You'll find out."

Chandler frowned. "Can you stop being so cryptic?" He asked, jogging to walk beside him.

"You're going to have to find out for yourself." Miles teased.

Chandler took a deep breath, looking around. He frowned deeply, running a hand through his hair. This case was getting weirder by the day. "I'll see you in the morning then..." He breathed, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah... Night, boss." Miles left, smiling as he unlocked his car and drove off.

Chandler sat in his car for five minutes, thinking quietly before turning his key in the ignition and driving back to his apartment block, thoughts buzzing around his head like angry bees.

* * *

Between the two of them, Chandler and Miles managed to keep Kent's other persona a secret for the week or so until he got back. The investigation had become a little more relaxed than before with there not being anymore sightings of the Shadow. The team did still have several people coming in daily with supposed drunken sightings or claiming to be the Shadow himself.

When Kent walked in, he was confronted with an incident room full of tired looking detectives and what seemed like every vigilante-wannabe in Whitechapel. He couldn't help a small smile as he looked in on his team working. Deciding that it would be best to come back when the place wasn't so crowded, he headed down to Buchan's lair.

Kent knocked on the open door, watching as the older man squirreled his way past the accumulating boxes and files. His face lit up as he saw Kent standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Kent! Marvellous to see you! Do you mind me asking where you've been the past few days? Mansell's been driving everyone up the walls and you missed one great chase." Buchan gushed, obviously happy for the company.

His smile proved infectious, Kent's own smile growing a bit. "Just been in hospital. Nothing too exciting..."

"Whatever for?!" Buchan asked worriedly, noticing the stitches in his forehead.

Kent tried to play it off as nothing. "I was out with friends and was mugged. One of the bastard's stabbed me through the shoulder. Didn't hit anything important."

"Oh, my dear fellow! Are you quite alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I was cleared earlier this morning. Just been told to take it easy."

"So you're ready for work then?" Buchan's previous smile renewed itself after slipping a bit.

Kent nodded. "More or less, yeah, I am. Just waiting for the incident room to empty out a bit."

"Ah. I thought there were more people walking around up there. So every Harry Halfwit and Cracked Cameron is buzzing around up there, admitting to being the one and only Shadow?"

"I'm guessing so. It's the Ripper all over again."

"Hopefully we never go through that fiasco again." Buchan chuckles.

"Hopefully not. Don't think any of us would want a new DI." Kent glances at the roof for a moment.

"No, I don't think anybody would." Buchan called from behind the mountain of archives he had scurried past. "It sounds like the elephants have finally moved out. I'm guessing you'll be going then."

Kent nodded. "I'll see you, Buchan." He yells back as he slips out the door.

He doesn't hear a reply, nor was he expecting one. When Buchan started his research he could get lost in his own worlds upon worlds of history. Fact and fairy tale passed before that man's eyes and he never seemed to tire of reading about the macabre of past centuries.

Kent slowly wandered back up the stairs, thinking to himself. Within what seemed like moments he was back outside the incident room. Buchan was right. The room had emptied out quite a lot, leaving just the team there while the last of the loons were shepherded off down the hallway by a group of uniforms.

Kent paused before going inside. Last minute nerves fluttered erratically in his belly, making him feel nauseous. He knew he'd have to face Chandler eventually and that if he was away any longer than a week, he would probably start making house calls. If anything he was nervous about the team's reaction. Did they know? Had Chandler kept his promise? Or was he going to walk in and get verbally attacked, maybe even physically by the likes of Mansell, for what he had been doing?

And what about Chandler? Sure a week ago he had been a heck of a lot cooler and more collected than what Kent had expected, but what about a week later? Would he still be okay with what Kent had done? Would he still accept him? If anything, Kent knew that was what he was truly nervous about. Whether Chandler would treat him the same or whether he'd turn him a cold shoulder.

Taking a breath and swallowing all of his insecurities about what may or may not happen, Kent walked in. Miles, Riley and Mansell all looked up at the new presence in the room. Riley was up in seconds, taking her usual motherly/older sister role in the team.

"What have you done to yourself this time?" She chastised, not bothering with a 'hello' or 'how are you?'.

Kent gave a lopsided smile. "I was kinda attacked..."

"By who?" Riley demanded, looking closely at the stitched gash across his forehead.

"Just a gang." Kent mumbled.

"Did you give as good as you got?" Mansell asked, coming up behind him and clapping him on the back.

Kent winced, biting the inside of his lip. Riley's sharp eyes picked up on the masked expression of pain. She frowned and narrowed her eyes, wordlessly demanding an explanation.

"They stabbed me in the shoulder." He offered up as an explanation.

This made Riley frown more. The idea of someone hurting the youngest member of their team made her blood boil almost as much as someone threatening her own children. "Have you called it in?"

Kent shook his head after a moment, trying to thiink on his feet. "No... They didn't get anything so I didn't really see the point."

"Kent! They smacked you over the head and left a hole in your shoulder. You could've died!" She chastised, pursing her lips.

"But I didn't."

"But you could've!"

Miles chose that moment to step in. "C'mon, Riley. Get off the kid's back. He's alive that's what matters." He gave Kent a knowing smile, nodding slightly. "You sure you're ready for work, kid?"

"Mhmm... I've been given the all clear and apparently I missed a good chase." Kent nearly tagged a 'Not' on the end but thought better of it and kept it to himself.

"That you did." Mansell breathed, feeling tired just from thinking about all the running they did. "The bastard lead us on a wild goose chase across London. Slippery bloody snake he is. Doesn't even have the guts to face the cops."

Kent bit the inside of his lip, mentally holding himself back from slamming Mansell's head into the desk and calling him an imbecile. A warning look from Miles told him that he shouldn't retaliate.

Keeping his tone calm, something he had had to learn to do when working with Mansell, Kent raised a skeptical eyebrow. "If you were a vigilante and were wanted by the cops you wouldn't stand off against them, would you?"

Mansell frowned and nodded. "I guess not but he's still a coward." He stated matter-of-factly, pointing at Kent with the mug of coffee he was holding.

"Just because he's trying to keep himself safe doesn't make him a coward."

"It kinda does." Mansell pressed. "He should learn to leave it up to the professionals anyway, aye, Skip?"

"Truthfully?" Miles asked. "I think he's doing more than we can. So far he's saved several people that we know of and more are turning up each day. He's a hero to the people of London."

Kent held back the small smile of gratitude that threatened to spread across his features. Mansell snorted. "He's making us look bad. The freak should just go back to where he came from."

Their argument continued for a few more minutes before Kent couldn't take it. He made a quick excuse about having pain killers to take and hurried out of the incident room. The three that he left behind stared after him confusedly.

"Was it something I said?" Mansell asked, looking between the other two.

Riley shrugged. "Who knows. It's probably the meds."

"Maybe." Miles agreed, though he knew it was something else. "Anyway, we have things to do, people to see, loons to disprove."

He shooed them off to their desks, each going to continue with the work they had started before Kent had walked in. Miles glanced up at the door every now and then, almost expecting Kent to come back.

Chandler walked in not long after, feeling the tension in the air as he entered. He raised an eyebrow, setting the file he had gone to get on the nearest desk. "What happened?"

"Kent's back. Walked out about five minutes ago." Miles answered as Chandler paused beside him. "Mansell managed to rattle his cage quite a bit, going by the scowl he had on his face when he stormed out." He added in an undertone, just loud enough for Chandler to hear.

Chandler nodded. "Any idea where he went?"

"Maybe the bathrooms? Or the parking lot?" Miles suggested.

"No. Those places would be too open. He'd want to be alone." Chandler mumbled, thinking to himself. "I'll find him..." He left the incident room before Miles could say otherwise.


	4. Chapter 4

Chandler had looked in all the usual places, the bathroom, the parking lot, the canteen, practically everywhere, before finally calling Kent just to see if he would pick up. He didn't, allowing Chandler's near frantic calls go to answer phone.

Chandler huffed, wracking his brains to try and think of where he could possibly be. It wasn't long before an idea struck him. Why didn't he think to look there first? Barely anyone went up there and it was quiet, not to mention that Kent would probably feel quite comfortable up there.

"The roof." He breathed, jogging for the stairs and taking them two at a time. He hurried down the corridors and skidded around the corners. He climbed to the roof, taking the seldom used service stairs of their building.

As he reached the top, Chandler tried to catch his breath. He was considered to be quite fit for his age but still found the running a bit of a challenge, especially up stairs. Stairs were a bloody nightmare. He began to wonder how Kent did this every night. Running up and down and pulling himself onto the roofs. The younger man must of been a lot fitter than he looked. A hell of a lot fitter.

He pushed open the heavy metal door, stepping into the bright light of midday. Chandler squinted, looking around as he waited for the spots in front of his eyes to stop moving. Blinking a few times, he began to walk toward a figure standing on the edge of the roof.

"Hello, sir." Kent mumbled, not turning around when Chandler got within five metres.

Chandler paused for a moment, before walking a bit closer, wondering how the hell Kent knew it was him. "Hi... Mind if I join you?"

"Of course, sir." A slight sad tone edged into Kent's voice, making Chandler move forward to be able to see his face. Had he really been... Crying?

"Kent? Are you alright?" He asked softly, looking intently at his DC.

Kent nodded, swiping at his eyes quickly. "Yes, sir. I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Chandler gently held his shoulders, careful of Kent's stab wound, and turned him to face him. "What's wrong, Emerson?"

Kent swallowed and glanced up from under his fringe. "It's just Mansell being Mansell. He just always manages to get under my skin and piss me off..."

Chandler let out a small breath of relief. For a moment he had thought that Kent was angry about the fact that Miles was now in on their secret. "Is that really the reason you stormed out?"

Kent nodded slowly. "I just couldn't take it. I know I shouldn't let it get to me but it does... I know that here I'm just meant to be DC Emerson Kent and not Shadow but I'm both and I really can't help getting angry about it and wanting to lash out..." He ranted, pulling away from Chandler and taking a seat on the edge of the roof.

"It's not your fault, Emerson."

Kent tweaked then that for the past few minutes Chandler had been calling him Emerson. It strangely had a calming effect on him, letting his anger melt away slowly. He decided quickly that changing the subject would be the best course of action.

"How'd you know I was up here?"

Chandler smiled softly, checking the spot briefly before taking a seat next to him. "Call it a hunch."

"Where else did you try, sir?"

"The car park. The bathrooms. Buchan's lair. The canteen. The file rooms." He counted them off one by one on his fingers. "Most places. And can you please call me Joe away from the others?" He added sheepishly.

Kent nodded, focusing on the office building across from them as something akin to cliched butterflies moved in his gut. "O-okay, si-Joe..."

An all too awkward silence fell between the two men for a few moments before Chandler thought of a fair question. "Can I ask you something?"

"Too late, you just did." Kent mumbled dryly, smiling weakly at the pathetic attempt at a joke. "Go ahead."

Chandler chuckled. "If you don't want to answer, you don't have to. Just tell me to mind my own business and I won't bring it up again but... What's with the thing with the shadows?"

Kent went silent again, opening and closing his mouth like a perplexed goldfish. He tried to think of how to explain it without making himself sound like a freak, but after a few moments of fruitless thinking he sighed, turning to look at Chandler with a grimace.

"It's just something that started when I was a teen. I had a... An accident where I fell off a building and the shadows saved me... If they hadn't I wouldn't be here right now."

Chandler raised an eyebrow. "You fell off a building?"

"Well, more pushed than fell. Both would've ended the same way..." Kent bit his lip at Chandler's horrified expression. "It kinda fueled me to start parkour and learn how to fight. I couldn't get away from them and it nearly killed me. The shadow control just seemed to come with the fighting and free running. The more I practiced, the better I got..."

Kent knew it wasn't much of an explanation but it was all he was willing to say at that moment. Chandler nodded slowly, to Kent's relief seeming to accept the confession.

"How does it feel?" He asked absently.

"Does what feel?"

"Controlling the shadows."

"Oh, right..." Kent mumbled, sighing softly. "It's kinda like... Well, um... Imagine your..." He huffed, finding it difficult to put the sensation into words.

Chandler raised an eyebrow and smiled, slightly amused at Kent's frustration. The younger man scowled, crossing his arms as he thought.

"You know how when you wake up in the middle of the night and it's like you can actually feel the night around you? You can feel it pressing in?" Kent asked, still unsure whether it was the right way to explain it.

Chandler nodded. "Mhmm... And you feel like someone's there?"

"Exactly. It's kinda like that but instead of being scared you feel safe. Like they're there to protect you." He thought for a moment before adding, "It's like they're alive. As if it's a living creature. Like a huge, black dog."

Chandler couldn't help the smile that edged onto his lips. "A black dog?"

"Yeah. If you're not kind to it, it will attack. It can smell the fear." He grinned back, wiggling his fingers in an attempt to be spooky.

Chandler laughed, leaning backwards and nearly falling. Kent shot a hand out to catch him, looping it around his shoulders and holding him up.

"Careful, Joe... Don't want to fall off here." He chided, not removing his arm.

Chandler nodded slowly, his previous fit of laughter dying slightly. "Long drop and a short stop."

"That it would be, and I don't want to lose my DI just yet."

Chandler's mind flashed back to his conversation with Miles just after Kent had been sent to hospital. Hadn't he said something about Kent having a soft spot or him? Surely he was over analysing the movement. If Kent hadn't put his arm up Chandler would've have fallen to his death. That was it. That's all the gesture meant.

"Are you planning on telling the others anytime soon?" He asked, clearing his throat in an attempt to keep the flush on his cheeks from rising.

Kent hummed pensively. "I don't think so..."

"May I ask why not? We can all keep the attention away from you and tie this all up."

"It's not that I don't want to, it's just... I'm pretty sure Riley would be okay with it and both you and Miles have been really good about it. It's just Mansell and Buchan I'm worried about."

Chandler nodded. "I can understand about Buchan. He can be quite fanatical about these things. But why Mansell?"

"He went on a rant before I came up here about how I'm, well, Shadow's a coward for not coming into the police or showing himself, myself." Kent mumbled quietly, looking down.

Chandler felt anger bubble in his belly, rising like an angry snake at the idea of Mansell insulting Kent, even if he didn't know exactly how closely that taunt hit home with Shadow and how much it stung the young man. He tried to rationalize his anger with it being that one of his men had verbally annoyed another. The only problem with this notion was that he knew Mansell didn't know about Kent's not-so-little secret.

Kent had looked away and was decisively staring at the glass panels of the opposite office building. His lighter mood had waned slightly, not disappearing completely but enough for it to have an impact.

"It'll be okay, Emerson." Chandler breathed, bottling his anger. "We've gotten through the Ripper, the Krays and many other just as horrific cases. We'll get through this..."

Kent looked over at him, hearing the underlying tone of faint rage within the endeavour at being comforting. "It's not good to bottle your anger, Joe."

Chandler sighed. "We should be getting back down to the others." He said, getting up and holding a hand out to Kent.

He peered at the outstretched hand warily, undecided on whether he really wanted to go back down to the incident room. Sensing this, Chandler offered up a reassuring smile.

"I promise you it's going to be alright, Emerson. I'm not going to let them find out until you're ready."

Kent looked up at him, staring into Chandler's bright blue eyes and nodded. He took the hand and let himself be hauled to his feet.

He shuffled awkwardly. "Thanks, Joe..."

"Whatever for?" Chandler asked, unable to think of anything he should be thanked for.

"For listening. No one really listens to me 'cause I'm the youngest so thank you. Just for letting me vent a bit."

"It's no problem, Emerson. If you ever need to talk you know where my office is."

Kent smiled lopsidedly and nodded. Chandler returned the smile. "Come on. We should get going before Mansell comes up with any ideas about where we've been."

Kent couldn't help laughing softly. "I really wonder about what goes on in that man's head. Do you think it's in the gutter all the time?" He asked, opening the door to step back inside.

"Wouldn't surprise me." Chandler agreed, closing the door behind himself and following Kent down the flight of stairs.

* * *

 

It took another few weeks of working the case before Kent told the rest of the team one by one about what his nightly adventures were. Riley was first, a week after his conversation on the roof with Chandler. At first she had accused him of joking around and had laughed. Kent let her laugh herself out before stating the fact again. This time she laughed for a few seconds before realizing he was completely serious. It took her a few minutes to fully grasp the idea. Kent decided to leave before she came to her senses and the mother instinct kicked in.

Next on his list was Buchan. It was easier to persuade him than it was Riley and he didn't react as badly either. Riley had insisted on smothering him slightly more than usual, treating him more and more like the baby deer of the team. All Buchan seemed interested in was how Kent had become this way and why he'd done it. Kent finally got out of the researcher's lair after near on three hours of interrogation. He'd immediately fled to the roof, hiding out there until Chandler came looking for him again.

Lastly, and probably the one Kent least wanted to do, was Mansell. He decided the best time would be to tell him just before he went home at night. The other man would be tired and wouldn't really pick up on what he'd been told until about ten minutes later. Kent approached him just as Mansell was putting on his coat, telling him that he needed a private word with him.

It was just his luck that that was the one day when Mansell was still pretty awake after having done nearly nothing all day. He could barely get that he was Shadow through with the endless torrent of questions coming from Mansell's mouth. In the end, after a brief  argument about whether Kent was a coward or not, Mansell dared Kent to do something he was sure the youngest DC wouldn't dare to do. Kent glared half-hearted daggers at Mansell.

Mansell raised his eyebrows at the look, not needing to here Kent splutter to know that he had hit something even more secretive than the piece of information he'd just been handed. A faint blush rose up Kent's cheeks as he turned on his heel, leaving a smirking Mansell behind.

* * *

 

Kent was in a horrible mood for the rest of the week. He had to mentally restrain himself from throwing himself across the room and attacking Mansell. Chandler had stated to the team that seeing as they all knew that Kent was Shadow the case would be closed pretty quickly. All they had to do was wait for the paper work to come through.

Kent sat working on the fifth form for that night, repeating the same details in different words to make each document slightly different. Miles had already finished and was reading over the seventeenth form, checking for spelling mistakes and any other mistakes that may have come through. Mansell had already become bored and started balancing pencils on his nose. Riley was plodding through the files, absently filling each out slowly.

Miles came round about an hour later, collecting all the finished forms. Passing his over, Kent caught an expectant look in his eyes. He frowned, glancing across at Mansell. He smirked and raised his eyebrows. Riley mimicked the expression. Kent huffed and slipped down in his chair.

Mansell sauntered over to him, leaning on the back of his chair. "C'mon, mate. It's either you do it now or when we leave and we rib you for the next week about it."

Kent huffed, weighing up the options. He found himself between a rock and a hard place, either he embarrassed himself now and got it over with or he did it without anybody there and he was teased for the next week.

"I'll do it after you lot leave..." He mumbled, becoming very interested in the stationary on his desk.

"Alright, alright... You sure you don't want to do it now?" Mansell pressed the issue, not expecting Kent to snap that easily.

"I'll ask him out later!" Kent snapped sharply, jumping to his feet and clenching his fists. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Kent risked a glance at their DI's office. He held his ground, glaring sharply at Mansell.

Mansell whistled. "Whoo... Okay, Emmy. No need to get snappy about it."

"Don't call me Emmy, Finley." He muttered quietly, sitting back down and glowering out the window.

Mansell rolled his eyes and grabbed his coat. "I'll be off then. See ya, Skip, Riley. Emmy."

Kent threw a pencil at him, hitting the back of his head as he walked out. He smiled slightly, hearing Mansell yelp in surprise. Riley laughed while Miles just shook his head.

"Remind me to never annoy you when you're in a kitchen, kid." He chuckled, grabbing his own coat. "I'd better be off as well. See you two. See ya, boss!" He yelled, getting a quick glance from Chandler.

Being the last one left, Riley gave Kent a sympathetic smile. "It'll be alright, Em. Don't worry about it."

Kent nodded sheepishly, glancing at the open door of Chandler's office.

"Oh, come here." She sighed, yanking him over and fixing his tie and collar. "Believe me. You'll be fine. I'll make sure Mansell doesn't go too hard on you... Anyway, if he does, you can use your dark magic thing. You have my permission for that."

Kent nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Riley."

She smiled and left, waving on her way out. Kent swallowed noticing that it really was just him and Chandler left. He bit at his nails, taking a few steps towards the DI's office before stopping and turning away. He spun back around and took a few more steps. Kent repeated this action a few more times before he finally huffed and walked shakily to Chandler's door.

"Sir?" He asked, knocking quietly.

Chandler looked up, a smile lighting up his blue eyes. He looked tired but happy to see him. "Yes, Emerson?"

"Uh... I was just wondering... Er..." Kent bit his lip, looking down at the ground.

He didn't notice as Chandler stood up and walked around his desk to face him properly. "Yes?"

Kent jumped slightly at the sudden closeness, taking a deep breath. "Sir, I-I was just wondering if... If you would mind g-going out with me... After t-this is all finished with... W-would you?"

He kept his eyes firmly glued to the ground, a red flush running up his neck. Chandler was slightly shocked by the question, trying to process that his DC had just asked him out. His mouth opened and closed slowly as he looked for a proper answer in amongst the fuzziness that seemed to have decided to attack his mind at that precise moment. Chandler felt his cheeks heat slightly.

"Oh," He paused for a moment. "Sure. I... I guess."

Kent's head shot up so quickly his neck popped. "OW! Pardon?!"

"Easy, you don't want to hurt yourself." Chandler muttered, stepping forward and holding Kent's head in place. "I said 'Sure. I guess', okay?"

Kent nodded dazedly. "O-okay..."

"Is it sore?" He asked softly, wondering if Kent would need another trip to the hospital just to make sure it was okay.

Kent reached up and took Chandler's hands away from his neck to see if it hurt at all. He tilted it either way, not feeling any pain. "I think I'm good..."

"Good." Chandler sighed, leaning in and kissing his forehead. "How about we go now?"

"Now?" Kent asked, completely dazed again.

"Yes, now. I know a great place not far from here." Chandler nodded, pulling his coat off the back of his chair and putting everything that he had lined up on his desk back in his pockets, moving from left to right. Wrapping his watch around his wrist, he smiled at Kent.

"Shall we?" He asked, ushering him out the door.

Kent nodded shyly, stepping out as Chandler flicked the light switch off once and only once to his relief. Kent jogged to his desk and shrugged his coat on. Chandler glanced around, noting that everyone had cleaned up after themselves for once. Kent trotted back to his side, timidly grasping Chandler's larger hand in his own. He expected him to flinch away and was mildly surprised when Chandler squeezed his hand reassuringly.

Kent smiled faintly, feeling that life was finally getting better for him.


	5. Chapter 5

A couple of weeks passed after Kent got up the guts to ask Chandler out and the case had finally been put mostly to rest. There were still some stories flying around news outlets and on the t.v. every now and then but not as often as they had been only a month or so earlier. Chandler and Kent's date had gone rather well with them going to a Chinese restaurant and just talking. Chandler had found that he loved hearing Kent laugh and in return, Kent learned that he adored hearing Chandler ramble on about ideas and such.

The two had spent most of the night out after leaving the restaurant, Kent appearing more comfortable in the cool night air, relaxing as they walked. A couple of times, he lost focus while he was laughing or listening closely to what Chandler was talking about and slipped into the shadows lining the road, making Chandler start and whirl around, looking for the other man who would casually slip out of the dark, smiling apologetically at making the him fret. After the first few times, Chandler found himself watching Kent like a hawk, staring softly at him as the raven haired man would continue chatting and laughing as he wandered beside him, subconsciously drifting into the dark every now and then. He would watch with an adoring smile on his face as Kent would almost completely disappear from view as if he was the Cheshire Cat fading away into nothing before coming back into the light. He found that Kent had a few quirks like that and each one just helped solidify how cute Chandler though he was.

Kent had gotten some ribbing from Mansell for a few days afterwards though the younger man knew that he was only doing it because he was bored since there was nothing left for them to do on the Shadow case. Riley and Miles were more supportive in a kinder way, smiling quietly to themselves whenever the new couple were talking off to the side in a corridor or in the incident room. Buchan was as oblivious as could be about it, preferring his world of historical crime over what was happening right under his nose.

They were all happy to keep Kent's dirty little secret a dirty little secret and no one had spoken about it outside of their team. So no one expected a man in a well-tailored suit to come striding into their incident room near the end of one stressful weekday. He was handsome, looking like he belonged more on a runway than in their incident room, with slicked back dark hair and icy blue eyes. There weren't many people working late that night but those who were turned to stare at him as he passed, muttering quiet questions to those near them.

It had gone silent as the grave, like the building itself was waiting for something to happen, making Chandler look up towards the stranger from his desk. He frowned. There was something about this too-beautiful-to-be-possible man that was currently striding towards him that made him wary. Nothing that this man brought with him could be good. Chandler remembered when a man similar to this had approached him during his days at college and offered him a place at MI6 once he graduated. He had turned it down, obviously, preferring the idea of doing the same work his father had done when he was a child. His immediate thoughts went to Kent. Had they found out  about his abilities? Had this man come to steal him away from Chandler? Surely not. After all, how could they have found that out?

His stomach sank as the man sat in front of him, a knowing smile on his lips. 'Secret Service' practically seeped from every part of him. "I trust you are Detective Inspector Joseph Chandler? Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Jonathan Doe. I've come to speak with you about a case you were leading on not too long ago. One to do with the Shadow?"

If Chandler's stomach had sunk before, it had now completely disappeared, leaving an empty space behind. Yep, they definitely knew. There was no doubt. Chandler swallowed and gathered himself, glancing over Jonathan Smith's shoulder. His eyes fell on Kent's desk, seeing that it was vacant. His companion had obviously beat a hasty retreat to the roof and was ready to disappear if he had to. Chandler felt his stomach begin to come back, his confidence rising.

"What do you wish to know about it?" He asked carefully, keeping every word and expression guarded. 

"Oh, not much... Only why the case was never solved and no one was brought to justice?" Jonathan picked at a piece of lint on his suit pants lazily, looking up at Chandler through his eyelashes. "Why is that, Detective Inspector?"

"He just disappeared. We couldn't keep up and he disappeared." He answered coolly. "Nothing we could do about it."

"That's quite amusing. After all, what is this? The third case you've been unable to properly close. The Ripper, the Krays. You've never been able to catch an important criminal yet, have you, Chandler?"

That cemented it. Chandler did not like this guy. Not one bit. This guy wanted something else and Chandler wanted him gone as soon as possible. 

"I'm sure, Mr. Doe, that everything you want to know is already in the files. Now, if you could please leave, my team and I have things to be getting on with." Chandler rose, walking around his desk to usher the other man out of his office.

"We will find him, Detective Inspector. You can't hide someone of his talents forever." Jonathan sighed, standing and buttoning his suit jacket. "Men like him get bored, sitting around when they could be making themselves useful. They just love a fight. Sooner or later, one of you is going to slip up and we're going to have him. Cheerio." He smiled brightly, looking almost too tempting before going to leave.

Chandler watched him walk away with measured strides before closing the door behind his back and taking a seat back in his chair, his head resting in his hands. They knew. They definitely knew. Then again why wouldn't they know? They were the bloody secret service, MI bloody 6. Of course they knew. They had probably known from the very beginning what was happening and who the Shadow was. At this rate, Emerson Kent was probably going to be the death of him.

* * *

Kent had hoped that whoever the guy who'd walked into Chandler's office was, was gone by the time he had started descending the stairs back down to the incident room but sadly, at least he thought so, luck wasn't exactly on his side. He was nearly there when the man stepped out from behind a corner, knocking into him. Kent felt himself tilt backwards, throwing an arm out to catch himself when something stopped him from falling. An arm was wrapped securely around his waist, keeping him semi-upright. 

"Careful. A man with a face like yours should really try not to get hurt." The man smiled, blue eyes shining slightly.  

Kent gaped slightly, trying to find his footing on the marble floor. The man in front of him was gorgeous, but a little too gorgeous, if there was such a thing. It just didn't seem right, like something was slightly off about him. Something that made the darkness in him cool and raise its hackles in defense. 

"Uh, thanks?" That was all Kent could get out while staring at the man. 

The man straightened him up, releasing his hold when he was sure that Kent was stable. He stuck his hand out. "No problem. I'm Jonathan. I'm guessing you're Emerson Kent?"

Kent nodded slowly, on the alert to bolt if he had to. 

"Great. You're just the man I've been looking for."

"You've been looking for me?" Kent asked, red flags going up in his head but curiosity making him stay. 

"Yes. You see, my people and I have an offer for you with your particular set of skills." Jonathan breathed, sticking a hand into his pocket. 

"Particular set of skills?" He repeated, feeling anger and betrayal bubbling away in his gut. Had Chandler told him? Would he dare?

"Mhmm. If you wish to talk about it sometime, or just talk, here's my card." He handed over a white card with plain black type on it printing out only a phone number, nothing else. "Think about it, at least?"

Kent's jaw twitched as he accepted the card and nodded, feeling the ultimate need to rush to Chandler and confront the older man. "Sure."

"Thank you. Now I need to be leaving. Until maybe next time, beautiful." Jonathan winked and walked away, brushing past him. 

Kent stood there for a moment, clenching his fists and feeling the shadows wind gently between his fingers. He shoved the card in his pocket, forgetting it the moment it left his fingers. He stormed back into the incident room with his head held high, anger tearing up his insides. How could Chandler do that to him? Didn't he say he'd keep his secret? Didn't his trust mean more than that to him? He felt betrayed, he felt hurt, he felt angry, he felt a lot of things, he felt like tearing the office apart brick by brick.

He threw open the door to Chandler's office, the personification of a bat out of hell, barely hearing it slam behind him and not feeling the stares he was getting through one of the blinds which was swinging side to side due to the force of the door shutting. He stood there for a moment, breathing sharply, shadows curling around his fists, wrists and legs. He looked like a demon, standing tall and proud. Chandler had looked up as soon as he entered the room, watching his every move. It may sound strange but even though Chandler was terrified of Kent being like this, he found it oddly beautiful. He almost looked feral, eyes blazing and power rolling off him in waves. 

He looked terrifying on the surface but when he spoke, his voice shook and cracked, making him shrink a little from his tall standing. "... How could you?"

"Kent? What's wrong?" Chandler got out of his chair carefully, holding his hands up in a calming gesture as he started to move around the desk. "What happened?"

"You told him! That's what happened! You said you wouldn't tell! You said you'd keep it a secret! You promised!" Kent's voice lowered to a growl as he looked away, running his hands through his hair.

"I swear I didn't, Emerson. I swear." Chandler closed the distance between them to stand in front of Kent, placing his hands on his cheeks. "I swear to you I didn't say anything. I swear."

"Then how the hell did he know about me?! How did he know, Joe? How?!" Kent looked up at him, glaring into his blue eyes, daring him to say the wrong answer.

"I don't know, kay? I don't know how he knows but he knows." Chandler rested his forehead against Kent's, trying to calm him down.

Things had started shaking in the room, vibrating across shelves and along the desk as the light began to flicker above the two of them. Chandler felt something sharp slice along his cheek, cutting deep and drawing blood as he noticed a dark shape out of the corner of his eye flit away, back towards Kent's balled fists.

"Because _someone_ broke their promise!" Kent snarled, his eyes narrowing at the man holding his face. "How could you?! I trusted you!"

Chandler sighed, seeing that the younger man was too angry to really listen to anything he was saying. He had to get Kent who was beginning to ramble as he growled at him to stop and listen to him. What could he do to shut him up long enough to say what he needed? An idea came to him barely a moment later. He wasn't sure if it would end well or with him thrown across the room but it was worth a shot.

"What did it take for you to talk, Joseph? Huh? What did he use against-" Kent was stopped in his tracks, stunned into silence. He had kissed him. Joseph Chandler had kissed him. _Joe_ had _kissed_ him. A shot of warmth ran from his head to his toes as he froze, shocked. He only managed to register a few thoughts in his stunned state; 1. That Chandler smelt like mint, detergent and coffee, 2. That he was warm but a little more forceful than Kent expected, 3. That thankfully the curtain on the door had stopped swinging, and 4. Everything had stopped shaking. It was short, sweet and just what was needed to shut Kent up. After a brief moment, the older of the two pulled away all too soon for Kent's liking, keeping one hand on his cheek and sliding the other around to the back of his neck.

"Will you please listen, Emmy?" Chandler breathed, his forehead against Kent's as he waited cautiously for the dazed man to retaliate and hit him. "Please?"

Kent nodded slowly, still dazed.

"I swear to you I didn't tell him anything, okay? I didn't, I won't, and I wouldn't betray you like that..." He murmured, keeping the younger man who now looked like a lost kitten compared to the demon he was before close to him. "Alright, sweetheart? I swear I won't do that to you... I only just got you, I'm not going to lose you like that."

Kent nodded again, staying quiet as a bright flush coloured his cheekbones. All his anger from before had vanished, leaving him feeling guilty for even thinking of blaming Chandler. How could he have even believed the idea for more than a second?

Chandler chuckled quietly, keeping his voice soft. "You're adorable when you blush, you know that?"

Kent's blush darkened as he mumbled out a reply. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't've gone off like that..."

Chandler pulled him forward gently, bundling Kent against his chest in a warm hug. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you voiced what you were thinking rather than bottling up."

Kent managed a small smile, wrapping his arms around Chandler's waist, feeling safe and warm. He rested his head against the taller man's chest, listening to his heart beat reverberate through his chest faster than normal before tilting his head up to look at him. "I hurt you..."

"It's nothing."

"It is. I didn't even know I did it..."

"Really, it's fine, Emerson." Chandler smiled, stroking his hair. 

Kent reached up and wiped the streak crimson away, pulling his hand to show Chandler. "That's not nothing, Joe..."

Chandler shrugged. "It's fine. I'm not going to die from a cut."

Kent nodded slowly, the feeling of guilt knotting itself around his intestines. Not only had he unjustly blamed him, he had used his abilities to hurt him as well. He buried his face in Chandler's chest, trying to hide his guilt. 

Chandler grimaced slightly, knowing he'd have to change his shirt after this as he had a nasty suspicion that he had a streak of blood on his back from another wayward shard of darkness now. He shoved the thought and the feeling of his OCD raising itself up in his mind to the back of his mind, focusing all his attention on the young raven haired man in his arms. 

"Hey... Look at me..." Chandler hummed softly, looking down at him. 

Kent lifted his head, not quite sure what to expect. Chandler ducked his head down and fitted his lips over Kent's once more. It was warmer and softer than before with Kent getting past being stunned faster and kissing back. This time it was Kent who pulled away slightly, only straying far enough to be nose to nose with Chandler.

He smiled slightly, a spark clear in his eyes. "Thank you."

"Anytime." Chandler grinned back.

"I should probably be getting back to work..." Kent sighed, his lips twisting downwards into a frown. 

Chandler sighed and nodded. "We've been given a new case anyway. Can you get everyone assembled?"

Kent nodded and left the room, a faint blush still on his cheeks for those who were looking for it to see. Those being three detectives and a bemused archivist standing around a desk.


End file.
